Outfit
by sofasoapsopia
Summary: Wasn't Kakashi supposed to be teaching him? Or was that Orochimaru? SI/OC
1. Prologue

If I owned Naruto I would,... uh, well I don't know what I'd do, but I don't own it so...

I am absolute shit with 3rd person writing. Style inspired by Aleycat4eva's _Of the River and the Sea_ and rockpaperscissor's _The Obeisance of Memory,_ (which is not a Naruto fanfic, if your wondering).

* * *

Prologue

* * *

Pain.

It was the last thing she knew when she closed her eyes.

It's the first when she opens them.

Blood and alcohol.

The metal and burning tangs were the last things she tasted when she lost her breath.

Blood and water is the first when she catches it.

Breathless grunts, desperate gasps and distant hums were the last thing she heard when her hearing mutes.

Desperate gasps, pained filled cries, panicked shouts and ' _Hide!_ ' is the first thing she hears when her ears tune in.

Energy.

Consciousness.

Life.

Her very being bled out warmly and harshly on the cold ground of an alleyway.

She regains it all, covered in warm sticky blood on the floor of a heated, cramped room.

It's startling, it's shocking, and she is so very, _very_ _lost_.

Only instinct seems to know what to do, and her lungs jump, startled, before letting loose.

A baby wails.


	2. Chapter 1

I do not own naruto

The first few chapters will be a little boring if you're not interest in reading her grow up. Sorry, can't just jump straight in or else character will be really bland and I can't work development with out starting at the beginning. I'm going to assume that it's not just the idea of canon exploring AU in a new way that catches your attention, if you all have read the description. Major warning if you haven't figured it, this is an SI/OC. Expect a few other oc's too.

expect slow updates. I'm very bad at time management. Not edited, I might go back and fix some things after initial posting.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

The first thing she becomes familiarly intimate with is a pair of ridiculously large shades.

It's not even sunny. They almost never even leave the shadows of the cover above their heads. Why is she wearing these again?

The next is the small caravan that she currently resides in, tucked tightly into skinny arms and a small chest.

She hasn't been anywhere, she can't see anything (probably because of her stupid shades), and she doesn't remember much, but she knows that she has lived her whole life in this caravan.

She knows this in the familiar creaks and groans the wood makes as it moves, the way it shakes and corners jump as it's wheels roll along a bumpy path, the sounds of hoof beats and neighs and crunches of foliage and shrubbery being crushed and swept off the path. There is a constant harmony of jingles and whistles, wind chimes of wood and mental singing and hitting each other dully in the cool and sometimes warm wind that is always blowing, that she can feel blow over her gently as the person - the _child_ that is holding her sits on the edge of the open back.

There is singing, from somewhere above, and there is chatter, loud laughs and whispered giggles from her side and her front and her back. It's everywhere, the strong aroma of bitter and spicy herbs and the sweet salivating scent of sweet, ripe fruits, the clashing and strumming of instruments playing tunes on and off, accompanied by multiple ' _swhipsh_ ' sounds of a lid being removed and hot steam billowing everywhere.

The air is always simmering with heat, crickets chirping off to the side while she can distinctly hear the humming constant buzz of what had always connected to frogs. It's summer and she is practically made of sweat and sticky clothing, there is no time for showers and baths if there is some. They are constantly on the move, and while the people around her are happy and talkative and lively, there is an undercurrent of worry. They are in a hurry to get where they want to be, but they disguise it nicely underneath a constant festival.

It's a nice caravan, she muses.

But it's just so _wrong,_ and yet it couldn't be anything but right.

This caravan, for everyone older than her knows how many week or months it's been, has been her life. It's all she's ever known and that's... that's a little impossible. Because she swears there was more. If there wasn't how would she be able to even keep up this line of thought? How would she be able to determine and name these little simple joys that surround her? Heck, she even knows she's a baby, a newborn or at least somewhat recently born one.

There wasn't just this, there had to be something more... but then, what is it? Because despite the persistent feeling that told her something was wrong, she couldn't imagine anything but this.

Nothing but her life in a caravan and the arms that embrace her.

* * *

She's never listened much to the voice of the one that holds her, only because the words that she does understand are so far and few inbetween and spoken so softly that she just doesn't honestly hear them. But weeks it must be, after when she can finally see - through her shades and just the world in all it's intimidatingly sized glory - that she hears the voice of the one holding her.

A she, she thinks. Her voice is high and light, her words spoken like she can't decide whether she wants to speak, sing, or hum, and most of the time their meant for her. She doesn't most if not all words, but she understands the questioning tilt to the end and the rhetoric feel, like the voice doesn't really expect her to speak back.

The tone of a voice can be just as telling as the words spoken. For now, at least.

They're questions, repeated and recycled at different times of the day. She's pretty sure they're just asking for the state of her stomach and whether it requires sustenance. Or whether she needs to go to the toilet or something.

It's constant, the questions, and she's become quite attached to the thought of communicating with this person doesn't really bother her. In however long she's been alive she's come to connect to them as family. She's not entirely sure that it's true, for all she knows this child that holds her could just be watching over her every time she is conscious for it. But she's sure she isn't.

Whatever it is, she feels safe and has no ill feelings against this being.

So after she's heard this voice and has familiarised herself to it, she realises that the term 'Hide' that is said always endearingly and promising, almost every time the soothing voice whispers against her ears, is her name.

Hide, she thinks.

* * *

Sleep, sleep, sleep, eat, eat, eat, listen, listen, listen.

How much longer will this last? Hide isn't complaining, but she is starting to wonder when they will reach their destination. It can't be too far now. She has heard the murmurs of anticipation, spoken quietly but heard loudly in the deep sleep of the night. It shouldn't be too long now before they reach the village that the adults speak of in a language she is just starting to understand.

Hide is quite content to wait it out, but she is however, a little... disheartened when they are set back. Mainly because of _how_ they are set back.

She isn't quite sure of what she expected of this world but for some reason Hide is greatly surprised of ninja's.

It happened sometime after noon. She had just recently 'eaten' lunch and had been playing with some rattle toy someone had crafted. As usual, the merchants, the traders, the gypsies and normal people that forms this tightknit community traveling together had been singing and talking away, as the day had been expected to be normal. There was steam and heat in the air, an unfortunately warm breeze, and the natural sound of wildlife.

Hide had been resting lazily against her skinny armed carrier, staring into empty air as she felt for the faint presences she had always known at the edge of her senses. It had been jarring at first, to be able to just _feel_ the people around her without actually touching them. And it wasn't like feeling them with a hand, but more like the world felt heavier where they stood, and she could connect to them. It had made her feel unbalanced and frustrated at first, because despite having nothing but her few recent months of life, Hide knew that she shouldn't have been able to feel them.

But she could and had accepted that she would always feel them, so imagine her shock when those presences at the very edge of her field, ones that she had intimately known was there from the beginning of this weird mess, disappeared. One moment it was like they were a part of her body, an extension of her spine, her organs and her limbs, little tiny coils and clenches in her body, and the next they were just... gone.

She distinctly remembers feeling empty for a second, confused and breathless, when they came back almost as fast as they left, moving in a pattern that she couldn't distinguish between the sudden sheer panic she can feel radiate around her. The music had stopped, the chatter had stopped, the skipping and peaceful walking had stopped, and was replaced by stifled screams and a mad dash to the safety within the caravan.

The child holding her scrambled further into the caravan, arms tightening around Hide as others tried to fit inside too, bringing swinging doors to a close.

Hide could hear the gasps and desperate breaths, each other emanating worry and fear as they tried to calm down. Outside of the caravan, Hide sensed unknown presences, ones that she knew didn't belong, disappear. They'd be moving fast, up and down and to the side, even underground and back up when suddenly they fell, not moving and slowly dissipating from her field.

The ones that she did know moved to help each other cut down the rest.

Hide had the uneasy feeling that she knew what they were doing.

Once they were done and she no longer felt the unknown figures, the caravan opened and slowly the adults she travelled with climbed out, shaking but singing praises and thank you's.

She only gets the idea of ninja's when the constant familiar voice she knows whispers about stories of them and how she wants to be one too, and that's about it.

After that incident Hide honestly doesn't think much of ninja's. She's quite content to ignore how those unknown presences had stopped moving and quietly disappeared from her sense.

Instead she thinks on how much longer they have until they get to this 'Hidden Village'. It sounds like a place of stability and Hide doesn't have a lot of faith in growing up on the road.

That, and why the hell the randomly placed mirrors inside the caravan show her hair to be a bright fucking, sea blue.


	3. Chapter 2

I do not own Naruto. Yeah forgot to say, but sorry to those who don't like the cliché chakra sense that I added in last chapter. Did I ever mention how old the person holding her was? Can't remember, oops.

This chapter is a bit fast, but it will eventually slow down. I just didn't want to stick around too long for the first couple years as basically nothing happens yet. Question, how long do you want these chapters to be? I can try for ones as long as this or longer, but usually that's only when I have a lot of inspiration and feel up to it. I just want to know so I don't feel like I'm disappointing anyone if it comes as short as 1500 or 2000 words. This is about full 7 pages.

not edited

ps. I'm a simple writer. Meaning I suck and have absolutely no skill. sorry.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves is a loud and bright and full. There are people everywhere, children laughing as they play tag, weaving through and under those around them, teenagers walking in groups complaining about their school life and how annoyed they are with everything, couples going on dates or just loitering around corners and in stalls, and adults walking to work, or maybe coming home from it, some carrying bundles of bags of fruits and vegetables while others guided their noisy children or babies around. Then there are the merchants, calling out loudly how they're so much better than the expensive pricks next to them, bantering with bargaining customers and or making an exuberant ruckus.

White steam and strong scents of spices and meats and sweetened things waft through and out of the village market on sunny days when the sunlight reflects off of everything that even the dullest of stones can blind. There's colour everywhere, merging of the oddly blue, red, white and occasionally yellow buildings with the completely weird blend of hair colours and skin tones. Hide feels like that should be impossible, just an uneven feeling in the bottom of her spine that tells her that it's not right, but for the life of her she doesn't know why. She can't think of any reason as to why having skin the colour of mocha (which if she thinks about, is actually pretty normal) and hair that can be as dark yet as bright as the sea (like what?) naturally shouldn't be normal so she leaves it alone. There's no point on pondering on something confusing when there's no logical sense that it should be.

There's always people talking, or laughing and sometimes whispering, Hide can't help but listen from time to time. She's got a fascination with people and their lives, hoarding information even when she doesn't need it or even understand it. There isn't even any use for it and Hide doubts that she'd ever meet any of the people her little pieces of knowledge belong to.

And then there is presence of the people of Konoha, like a thick mist cast around and through, laced in every direction, in every gap and crevice it finds, never leaving and never evaporating. Hide feels everyone and anyone within her reach, and it's fucking glorious. The air is practically alive, thrumming and surging with energy like a strong current. It flows everywhere in circles around her, flooding her senses and crashing against her very edges before it abruptly disperses into tiny little particles that are strong yet so weak at the same time. She loves it, and so when Hide isn't preoccupied with basking in the smells or sun, listening and hoarding little facts and tidbits from citizens within her range, then she's closing her eyes and feeling the energy of the village. It's stronger than that of the caravan she had been used to, as though the more people there are the more there is energy.

(It does her no well to remember that night, when the air surged with angry power, a malevolent force that didn't simply overwhelm her senses so much as blast the gate to pieces and fill her up entirely with pain and fear and a coursing, thriving stream of crackling rage. She was only three and later she would be four, and five, and six, and a decade later sixteen, but of all the days in her life she would remember that one. It made the flashes and jostles in her memory and mind worse.)

It's probably true, but it also has to include the environment. Back on the uneven road as they travelled to the beautiful village and Hide has grown to love in less than a day, the trees swung in the air with their own type of energy. They felt soft, a faint tingling scent in the calm breeze. The life of the earth is vague and serves only to remind her that they too live. Hide holds an attraction to the people more than her surroundings.

Funny, considering she has a hard time talking to anyone other than Rio, her apparent 'neechan' as she's been told frequently to call her.

Actually talking to or meeting the tenants that live in the apartments section which she resides in is more overwhelming and crushing than any part of what Hide suspects is their life force they exude. She loves the people and their thrumming presence but – actually, Hide takes that back. She loves the sometimes powerful and sometimes weak force that they leak all over the place. People just make her nervous.

Here in Konohagakure, Village Hidden in the Leaves, where it is bright, loud and full, do she and her Neechan make a life. Five years later that thought is still prominent in her mind.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It'll be fun, the only thing you'll have to do is introduce yourself, yeah? No need to worry." Neechan tries soothing her after Hide has mustered up what must be the most pathetically cute expression of reluctance. Neechan isn't very good at soothing, because she's chuckling in between her words and has little to no skill in hiding her amusement.

"Look, I'll be here to pick you up as soon as that bell rings." And then she ushers Hide gently forward, closer to the mass of little children. Hide grimaces. Neechan is nine years older than her and has already gone through the Academy. Despite joining late, apparently she had had previous training, in the time before Hide was born, and so was approved to skip the first few years of the normally seven year course. Only recently has she made genin, and is quite possibly the most social person Hide has ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Hide casts one last look, trying to convey her displeasure that certainly Neechan understands (and she does, if the softening on her half covered face that only Hide out of everyone else can make out) before pitifully skimming the pool of the next generation of ninja.

Nothing interesting happens on her first day. Nor for the next, or the one after that, and all the ones to come for the rest of the year. It's filled with basic stuff and almost nothing ninja. Unsurprisingly, Hide excels well past her classmates. She already knows all this stuff, how she does again she doesn't know, but, well, it works. That's all that matters.

Maths comes as easily as calligraphy, literature as easy as science, and only sometimes does she hit door knob with history. Hide gets all excited when she hears that one word that comprises the past but ends up disappointed when she actually learns it. It's kind of like she's expecting... more?

More fighting, more wars, more people and their stupid opinions and ideas, more things happening, who knows cause she certainly doesn't. In fact Hide doesn't fucking know anything, and yet she knows so much. What she knows just doesn't match up with what is said here, her gut tells her. It's less of a tangible and organized knowledge and more like a gut feeling that everything is not what it's supposed to be. Here it just... doesn't meet her expectations.

But this only stops her a few times and then everything is taken in stride. It's boring, and Hide hates it.

She becomes even more reluctant when she has to get off her ass and enter her second year.

"Hey, it can't be that bad, you did great last year right?" Neechan tells her this time and Hide doesn't acknowledge whatever point she's trying to make. The Academy was horrible and nerve-wracking. The other children don't like how good she is at simple things like maths and poetry, or how awesome she is at hide n seek and playing tag. She's told Neechan of all her woes but all the older blue haired girl do is laugh and snuggle her up telling her that they're just a little jealous and will let go of it as they grow up.

Hide, like most natural born pessimists, doubts this.

She has to go.

Neechan's teammates are there though, and they try to offer advice too.

"It's easy, just walk up in there and act like you own the place. All the other kids will like you cause you'd be cool if you do. Intelligence is a good thing." Joji. Tall, skin pale as though he'd lived in a cave for the first fourteen years of his life, blond hair bleached and curled crazily, and lazy slanted, grey eyes that sometimes made her fumble. Wears the Leaf headband bandana style.

"No, no, don't do that. Make sure you're nice and polite. It's the easiest way to make friends." and Masa, eyes of honey and smile of sweets, black hair and light olive skin that has no resemblance to actual olives. Even taller than Neechan and Joji and wears his Leaf headband around his neck.

Hide can never stop herself from flinching when they talk. Maybe cause they're people, or because their older and more intimidating, or it's because they're so clearly male and she's always had some sort of problem with the opposite gender, their tall frames and broadening shoulder flashes something like fear in her mind. Whichever it is, Hide is immensely thankful for the large ass shades covering half her face, because if there's one thing she knows for certain, it's that her eyes are her most expressive trait.

She's never seen them, but she can feel when they wince, when they twitch in shock or flicker when flinching. They're hers, of course she knows what goes on with them. Sometimes they close halfway, the skin around and on her cheekbones pulling up when she can't deny a grimace or sneer. If they were to be seen, all her thoughts would be on display for the world to see.

Hide purses her lips, her most serious face crossing her six year old features. "Maybe..." She mumbles and that's all she leaves before taking off to roll call.

This year is as uneventful as the first. The only change has absolutely nothing to do with the Academy.

From the small dingy apartment they shared with one other to a new and slightly bigger official genin apartment. Only recently has Neechan saved enough money for this move and Hide is excited when they do.

One main living room slash bedroom with an island to separate it from the kitchen, there's a small bathroom connected by a door and then a storage closet empty for use.

Hide loves this new change and basks in the cosy home it turns into once they move their futon, bags and every belonging that they own into this small living quarter. She intends to spend a lot of time in here, and does so with a good book or scroll that Neechan provides her with. It doesn't even matter that she has a hard time reading, she does it any ways.

Even Neechans teammates pitch in and give her little gifts and trinkets, and she always feels a little guilty when they do because Hide still can't help but flinch away when they come near her. They notice, of course they do and she can't help but be bothered that they might be hurt over it. It's an anxious little guilt that's festered in her mind and worries her, so she tries to make it up however she can.

It's hard, but they seem to appreciate her effort.

After all, before Hide's third year at the Academy, beside Neechan, they're one of the only people she could distantly call friends. Hide by nature does not like to be alone. She just can't help it.

Anyone else and it would have to take a lot of will and determination to reach out to her, because there is nothing Hide is better at then ignoring someone.

Until she meets Tora. Or Tora meets her.

Third year starts and Hide is sent off with the calm and encouraging words of Neechan and her teammates. Like usual Hide sits quietly, claiming the seat up high in the class, near the back and right next to the wall. She feels safe at this vantage point, not to close to the front to become first pickings and vulnerable to the sensei's beedy, unrelenting eyes but not too far back that she isn't immediately isolated from her classmates and left out of all the gossip and information being whispered around.

Hide spends most of her time eavesdropping, and can multitask both that, her work, whatever little doodle she draws up on spare sheets of paper that she always has partially hidden and the lessons that sensei teaches them.

It's during this when Hide is eagerly listening to others talking about some happenstance does someone poke her. Quite literally.

Hide stares ahead as someone's finger – she dearly hopes not however – touches her neck repeatedly, jabbing her every few seconds. The blue haired girl doesn't know what to do. Is this a normal thing? Do children usually do this when they want another attention? Hide is pretty sure she's seen this happen between friends. But – but she doesn't know this unknown person. She has literally not talked to anyone in class. Hell, she doesn't need to talk to them out of class, usually she'll just join the en masse of little kids playing and they wouldn't think a second on it.

Inwardly she grimaces. If she turns around, she doesn't know what to say. Most likely Hide will mess this up and then whoever is poking her would look at her funny and then never speak to her again. That thought leaves her frowning, only a little twitch of her brows but a twitch nonetheless. But then they might think she's stupid and slow if she doesn't at least acknowledge them. If anything in her mind, that's worse. She despairs at the thought of looking like an idiot.

Hide whines silently as her body turns without her permission. It does that, and usually when she moves or acts without thought but because of compulsion she's bound to make a mistake. It hasn't happened, not from what Hide can tell, but she knows it as a universally accepted truth. It just is.

As soon as Hide is staring behind her the poker that has been poking her for almost ten minutes grins. "Whatup?" she pops her P's.

Hide silently points to the ceiling.

The girl, normal looking a little cubby, with pale, rosy skin, dark curly hair messily tied back and her own pair of cool looking red, granny pointed shades snorts, still grinning. She's missing a few teeth. "No man. Name?"

Hide ponders silently over the choppy way of her speech before admitting her own.

The girl nods cooly, "Tora, pleased to meet ya. Here if you haven't noticed is Ichiro."

And woah no, that is one more kid too many Hide thinks. To Tora's right – wait, no, it's her left – is a boney, lightly tanned boy with dark brown hair in mohawk style. He looks as fidgety and flighty as she feels and is hunched over his desk, arms spread laid out in front of him.

He smiles nervously, reminding her of a mouse, and waves at her.

Hide is befuddled.

And then their sensei crows upon them with the face of a fierce looking God made of marble and she just whips around back to the front while her heart races loudly in her chest all the way up to her ears. The damn thing probably won the race against her stomach to her mouth. Which is good. Now is not the moment for nervous induced, projectile vomiting. Her cheeks feel like their burning, all the way until after school and the next day, when inevitably, Hide is subjected to Tora's consistent poking.

She's isn't pleased to know that sensei's light scolding had little to no effect on the other girl.

"Why do you – why do you keep doing – doing that?" Hide blanches – but to others she practically looks the same – at her stutter. One that she hadn't realised she had, or still had. She absent-mindedly casts that latter thought into the category of things that are known and just is. Stuff with no logical reason as to why she possesses them. Hide has never talked outside of her comfort zone to acquaint with a stutter as of yet.

"Cause I'm bored and this one-" Tora looks at Ichiro pointedly, who ducks his head sheepishly and rubs a hand through his hair. "doesn't want to talk."

"But, but, I'm doing work. Busy-busy." Hide says, motioning subtly to her desk in hopes the other girl sees her three different work sheets on trigonometry that's... already finished. Ah, oops.

"You call spending all of class drawing work?"

"Ehehehe..."

Tora snorts good naturedly, her high and dry voice distinct amongst the loudly swooning of the other girls. "I sit behind you. I can see literally everything you do."

And there it is, Hide's paranoia going up in spades. She can already imagine all the possibly embarrassing things she's done. Tora probably thought she was a weird-o and gross or something alike. Oh no, what if the pale girl thought she had lice or knits or even fleas? Hide had been scratching her head quite a bit lately. In fact she feels the need to scratch it right now.

She silently decides to ask Neechan to save more money for the water bill. It's been a while since she was able to wash her hair. The only reason she can get away without it looking oily is because it's already blue and naturally extra shiny. They couldn't spend too much running water, not when they needed to pay other bills like the electricity and rent. Buying sustenance and tools too.

She slaps her hand onto her lap like lighting and ignores her twitching scalp.

"That's... nice..." is all Hide actually says. She whispers 'stalker' quietly under her breath.

Tora catches it however, mouth dropping open before her pink lips start to twitch into a smile. "Hey, y'know what? You should sit with us. We're friends now, it would look bad if you sat elsewhere." She says, looking proud of herself and Hide doesn't know why. There was literally nothing of worth in that besides the fact that she was just asked to hang out with them. Ahahaha, nothing...

Hide's mind is a little hysterical and mystified. She loves that word. Mystified... it's just so... mystifying.

Her tongue acts accordingly by itself. "Um, okay." she says, and then is stuck between repeatedly turning back to them and then back to the front before it eventually decides – without her permission – to seat it's back to the wall and front to the side of the room. Now all she has to do is twist her head and tada! there is Tora and Ichiro. The only good from this act is that Tora can't poke her any more.

Tora smiles, attempting to smirk but totally failing and Ichiro sighs, head dropping to his desk.

Hide feels him.


End file.
